Page 54 of Her Notorious Rake
“Dear members of the Ton, you shall be most intrigued to note a recent impropriety between a certain rake, the one and only Lord Dalton Blakemore, and his fair cousin, who it would seem is more than a cousin to him this spring...”
Gemma crossed the room and thrust into the fire the scandal sheets she’d crumpled in her fist. Taking in a shuddering breath, she tried to ignore her churning stomach, and watched the papers burn in the hearth.
If only this were but a dream, she thought for what must be the hundredth time.
“Miss?” It was Rose, hovering in the drawing room doorway. “Your trunk is nearly packed now.”
Gemma turned, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Rose,” she whispered. She would miss the girl dearly. She would miss this house, and London. All of it. She would even miss Aunt Philippa, despite her authoritative nature.
She glanced around the empty drawing room, and her chest ached. But she needed to leave London. As soon as possible. To remain another moment longer would be insufferable. Impossible. She’d already written a letter to Mama informing her that she would be returning to Willow Grove and wondered if her mother was rejoicing.
Aunt Philippa entered just then, dressed in a simple morning gown, devoid of her usual feathers and jewels. “I’vefound great pleasure in your company, despite your penchant for stubbornness. Of course, I’ve had to remind myself that you take after my brother in that fashion.”
Gemma tried to smile. “And I thank you, Aunt Philippa, for having me”
Her aunt leaned over to pick something up off the marble-topped table in the hall, and when she reappeared in the doorway, Gemma realized what she was holding. It was the book—the book that Lord Blakemore had sent to her from his own collection.
“I don’t want it,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Burn it, for all I care.”
“It’s a beautiful book, I must say,” Aunt Philippa murmured. “It would be a shame to.”
She set it down on the table by the window, where she and Gemma had spent so many breakfasts. “I pray you godspeed on your journey.”
Gemma clasped her aunt’s hand in hers warmly, a swell of affection for the older woman rising in her. As trying as her aunt’s persistence had been, she was truly grateful to her for everything. Aunt Philippa had only ever been trying to look after her, for Papa’s sake.
Aunt Philippa kissed her on the cheek but as she drew back, Gibbons entered and announced the arrival of Lord Neville. Aunt Phiippa’s eyes widened as she turned to stare at Gemma, mouth open. “He’s come to say farewell, I presume. As I’ve told you, he is smitten with you.”
Gemma tried to smile and inclined her head slightly. Aunt Philippa beamed and told Gibbons to show in Lord Neville.
Presently he appeared, a bouquet of hothouse flowers in his hand, and he carried them over to Gemma, as Aunt Philippa retreated to the settee before the hearth.
“Miss Hayesworth, I’ve only just heard that you are quittingLondon, and I came as swiftly as I could to bid you farewell, and to implore you to reconsider—”
“Lord Neville—”
“Please, let me finish,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. This was surprising as he tended to be a rather placid man. Gemma managed a smile and nodded, closing her mouth.
“I should be very much honoured if you would marry me, Miss Hayesworth.”
Aunt Philippa gasped from her seat on the settee, and Gemma couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her either. She stepped back, heart pounding hard in her chest. “Lord Neville, I—”
Again, he didn’t let her finish. “You are a remarkable young woman, and I would do everything in my power to secure your happiness in every portion of our life together. I understand you have a penchant for astronomy, and I should love to indulge that passion in any way I could.”
Gemma cast her aunt a shrewd glance, realizing that Philippa had likely instructed Lord Neville to say this. His eyes were full of earnest excitement, and hope. And for the first time, sympathy overtook her, as well as a deep, welling gratitude for his sincerity, his inherent goodness.
And for a moment, the wordsI should be so very honoured to take your hand in marriagebalanced on the tip of her tongue. She could say that, and live a very pleasant life with a man who was truly good, and kind. Or, she could go home and resign herself to being a vicar’s wife.
Or, she could continue to hope to marry someone, someday, for love. Love alone.
***
Someone shook Dalton hard. He groaned, rolling over ontohis side, squeezing his eyes shut as the sun suddenly blazed forth upon him, where he lay on the floor. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the cool glass of a bottle, and the shaking began again. He tried to sit up but pain streaked through his skull and he cried out.
And then, cold water flooded over his head in an icy rush. He gasped, blinking and sputtering out water that ran into his mouth. With a curse, he cracked open his eyes, trying to see who had just doused him.
To his surprise, he found that it was none other than Theodore, kneeling beside him on his bedroom floor.
“For heaven’s sake,” Theodore said, his forehead knitted with concern. “You must pull yourself together, my friend.”
